Freaks
by mooyoo
Summary: A post escape crossover with Supernatural. Random silly fic.
1. Freaks

**Title:** Freaks  
**Fandom:** Prison Break  
**Disclaimer:** Paul Scheuring and a whole lot of other people who aren't me own _Prison Break_.  
**Word Count:** 217  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** A teeny-tiny drabble. Barely a crossover, barely even a fic… (that somehow turned into several parts)

"So this is kinda bad."

"I'd say so."

"Hm. Who'd've guessed this, huh?"

"Well you had to go for 'the cool one'."

"Hey man, I didn't know," Lincoln said innocently. Michael continued to glare at him. "Cool old black car, no security system – seemed like the best option at the time. How could I know?"

"Did have some good music, though," Michael admitted. "This guy might want to think about switching to CDs or MP3s, though."

"Yeah," Lincoln agreed. "He's probably gonna be pissed about that Metallica tape we broke."

"I think he'll probably be a little more upset about his car being stolen."

"Probably. So you think we should take it back, or just leave it here?"

"I don't know," Michael replied, looking down at the open trunk. "What do you think, mass-murderer or just a random psycho?"

"Dunno," Lincoln shrugged. "I doubt even T-Bag keeps a collection of guns this big."

"And what's this, a dream-catcher?" Michael fingered the object dangling in front of them. "Who keeps one of these in their trunk?"

"Yeah, this guy seems like a freak." Lincoln sounded almost awed. "I'm thinking we should just ditch it here, wipe our fingerprints, and take off."

"Sounds like a plan," Michael said, closing the trunk. "We really picked the wrong car to steal."


	2. Weirdos

"Fucking-god-damn-son-of-a-fucking-bitch-piece-of-shit."

"Would you calm down?"

"Shut it."

"Dean, it's just – "

"Don't you dare fuckin' say it."

"- a car."

Dean stopped in his tracks and spun to face his brother, thrusting a finger against Sam's chest. "Number one, it's not just _a_ car, dumbass. Number two, how do you expect us to do our job if we have no way to _get_ anywhere? You think ghosts and shit are just gonna come to us?"

Sam frowned and smacked Dean's hand away. "I'm just saying, maybe you should have a little perspective."

"_Perspective_?" Dean gasped as Sam continued walking, leaving him still standing in the middle of the road.

"Yes, Dean, as in this could be worse," Sam said, waving a hand as he continued to trudge down the road. "We don't know who took it, could be… murderers or serial killers or something. What if we'd been there?"

Dean snorted and kicked at the ground, sending up a cloud of dirt. "Yeah, like we couldn't have taken them. You know, if you hadn't insisted on stopping at that fucking supermarket – "

"So I'm sick of eating Ring-Dings for every damn meal, sue me. And anyway, this isn't my – hey!"

Dean looked up from his boots to see Sam dashing towards what looked distinctly like his car. He scanned the car once he reached it, brushing hands reverently over the slick metal and checking frantically for any marks.

"She looks okay," he breathed in relief.

"Please stop referring to it as 'she'; it's a car," Sam said in a dour tone, glaring at his brother through the windshield as Dean slid into the front seat.

"She's _my_ car," Dean murmured, almost to himself, as he scanned the dashboard and spotted one of his cassette tapes lying in the passenger's seat.

His heart stopped when he picked it up and found the tape pulled from its spool and strewn about in a mangled mess. A piece of paper was lying folded beneath the cassette, and Dean flipped it open to reveal a note written in careful print –

_Sorry about your car, we only needed it for a bit. Really sorry about your tape. _

"Who the hell d'you think these guys were?" Dean asked, handing the note to his brother as Sam climbed into the seat beside him. "Who leaves an apology note after stealing a car?"

"Weirdos," Sam mumbled.


	3. Dude

"Dude, back off, we were here first."

"No way man, we've been waiting here."

"We were just parking our car. We saw you guys walk in here, we were definitely here before you."

"Parking lot's not the same as the front desk."

Dean lost his patience and dropped a fist onto the desk, making the bell _ding_ as it shook. "You know what? I don't really give a flying fuck who was where. We've had a long-ass day, you can see me and my brother need a shower, we're getting that room."

Lincoln snorted in reply.

"Hey, it's not that big a deal, why don't we just let them have it?" Michael said calmly to his brother. Lincoln continued to glare at Dean.

"No fuckin' way am I letting this kid take the last room," Lincoln growled.

"_Kid?"_ Dean's eyes widened and he took a step forward, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

Lincoln didn't move an inch. He continued to glare down at the smaller man before him, daring him to try something.

"Dean, c'mon," Sam said in a placating tone, moving to tug on his brother's elbow. Dean shook him off and narrowed his eyes.

"Linc, we don't want to start any trouble," Michael chided. Lincoln ignored him and balled one hand into a fist to crack his knuckles.

"You really want to take a roll with me?" Dean spoke, low and threatening.

"Try me," Lincoln hissed.

"Bring it on, bitch," Dean said with a grin full of confidence, taking another step forward only to be interrupted by the motel manager.

"Alright!" the man behind the front desk finally piped up. "Alla y'all outa here!"

Both sets of brothers turned to look at the man in shock. Lincoln's hands dropped to his sides and Dean's fists unclenched.

"Wait – " Michael began, but the man shook his head and thrust a finger towards the door.

"I don't want no fightin' in my place, don't need your business, not get on out!"

Michael's mouth snapped shut and across from him Sam's jaw tightened angrily as he turned to glare at his brother.

"What?" Dean asked him innocently, throwing his arms up. "Not my fault, dude."

The four men filed out of the office, Dean grumbling about the unfairness of the manager, Lincoln nodding along sagely, Michael shaking his head and looking around them nervously, and Sam glaring at the ground, his quick, angry gait putting him several steps in front of the other three.

"I mean, come _on_, all we were doing was trying to settle things, not like we were gonna… _kill_ someone or something," Dean said, waving one hand angrily through the air.

"Right," Lincoln agreed with the momentary enemy who'd suddenly become his ally.

"Maybe if you hadn't made such a scene…" Michael said quietly.

"C'mon, wasn't that big a deal," Lincoln replied flippantly, and Dean nodded in agreement.

"And now we have to find someplace else to stay tonight or sleep by the road somewhere," Michael grumbled.

"You guys don't have a car?" Dean asked. Lincoln shook his head. "You want a ride somewhere?"

Before Lincoln could open his mouth to accept, he spotted the black car from a few days ago, and both he and Michael stopped in their tracks as Dean headed over to the driver's side.

"Uh…" Lincoln mumbled.

"That's okay," Michael recovered for him, flashing a grin at the other two men. "Thanks. We can walk."


End file.
